Frozen Perfection
by Queen of Tortall
Summary: He takes entirely too much from her, but she lets him. Because no matter what, she can't let him go. Lucius/Narcissa


**Frozen Perfection**

* * *

_Frozen inside without your touch_

_Without your love, darling_

-Evanescence

* * *

She's perfection, all exquisite bones and pale skin and moonshine hair and sapphire eyes, with her pure pure blood and her prim and proper manners. In a family where appearances are everything, she's adored by her aloof mother and implacable father for being the epitome of a perfect Black heiress. She's adored by her sisters for being the baby, for being the darling little Cissy who is all smiles and pureness and joy. She's adored by all the boys for her slim figure and big eyes and the way she'll smile at you and only you. She's Narcissa Black, and she's perfect.

* * *

He sees her from afar, the little golden girl with the old eyes who seems to convey the warmest of emotions from the coldest of masks. He wants to discover the true Narcissa, wonders if she's as dark as Bellatrix on the inside or as foolish as Andromeda. But he can't help but feel that if he got too close, he would stain the pristine snow that is Narcissa, so he watches and waits.

* * *

She finds him one day, by the lake. It's one of those days that carry the breath of spring, and there is a freshness in the air that promises better days to come. But amid of the flowering buds and half-melted snow, is the dark stain of blood.

"Lucius..." she whispers. They've never spoken before, though they were in the same circles of friends. His name sounds intimate and even forbidden on her lips.

He looks up at her, eyes darkened with pain and more vulnerable than she has even seen. "Leave," he manages to gasp out, before coughing up more blood.

"No," she says. "What happened? What's wrong?"

His eyes steel, returning to that blank Malfoy stare the world knows so well, though it lacked the usual look of superiority, given that he was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. "You can't help me, Narcissa."

"And why not?" she practically spits back at him, forgetting his condition for a moment. She's tired of this, tired of everyone treating her like she's a piece of precious glass or a valuable ornament, fit only to be looked at and admired. "Because I'm too weak?"

Smiling a little at her response- who knew Narcissa Black could be such a spitfire?- he managed to shake his head. "No, because I don't want you to see me like this," he admits.

And she can't help but smile in return. She shouldn't want him, not now, not that she's betrothed, not ever, because she's heard the stories of his conquests and the way he treats the girls afterwards. He's probably lying to make her feel better, those piercing eyes seeing through straight through her facade as the bright girl who wants for nothing in this world, but she doesn't care. And for a second, she forgets that he's lying in a pool of his own blood- who knows how on earth he got hurt like that?- and lets her eyes wander to his lips. Only for a second. But eyes his eyes are still watching hers, and he doesn't miss the movement. He smirks, and Narcissa deems that if he's well enough to poke fun at her, then he's bloody well enough to deal with his own injury.

Days after, they meet again. And again. Innocuous at first, but then that led to rendezvous in broom closets and in unused classrooms, and occasionally in the hidden spot by the lake, though she hates to get dirt on her clean robes. Everyone else only marvels at their badly kept secret, but aren't surprised that it's Lucius Malfoy that has gotten demure and uptight little Narcissa Black. He remembers his earlier promise to himself, to stay away from Narcissa, but it's too late. She's crawled into his heart, that twisted thing, and he's too selfish to push her away.

It's strange, the closeness she feels by him, the warmth and the comfort and the security. She knows he's dark and dangerous, and she knows that he'll only play with her heart, and she knows that there's no such thing as true love in this world, not for her, not for anyone. It's too painful to let anyone in, and Lucius has already gotten under her skin. He makes her feel inferior and beautiful at the same time, precious and insignificant. He'll brush her off and hold her close, fly into fits of jealous rage but expect her to allow him his little "experiments." He takes entirely too much from her, but she lets him. Because no matter what, she can't let him go. Loving him may hurt, but at least she feels alive.


End file.
